Hours of Songs

Chapter 9: What Happened to the Conversation

“Shouldn't we be heading back to the pasture?" insists Lim, who is drenched in sweat.

I can see why Pops was weary. It is hard enough to resist the lake water. With Lim reminding us to go back to the guards, who knows whether or not we would end up walking back. I mean, anything could happen.

I stare at him angrily. He has to quit his complaint.

“Lim, we have established the dangers lurking there," I try to talk some sense into him. “The plan is this. Find shelter and find our route out of Maica. This means we might never see Pops again."

“Pops?" asks Lim in confusion. “Oh, you call him Pops," he comes to a realization.

“Yes. He does not want to tell us his name. Figured to give him a nickname."

“Okay, Pierre. Can I call him, Pops?"

“Depends on whether or not he lets you."

“Pierre, logically speaking, the pasture is the only living civilization here in Maica. You see, the president, his guards, those popped up with us. The only person who is not there is the old man from the cave who looks haggard. And believe me when I say that he is not the welcoming type. After stumbling upon his shelter, we are being kicked out to find a separate shelter."

Lim does not know that Pops needs to get rid of him because he might be working for the president of Maica. There is also no way am I revealing the living civilization that we are bound to meet during our journey–that is if we ever get that far.

We have not made it that far and there is already an argument from Lim. My concern is that making loud noises might attract attention to Pops' cave. After all, he has assured us that this area is less ventured.

My priority is to keep Pops safe by bringing Lim and his arguments farther away from the cave.

“Let's move farther into the forest. We can find a spot that's safe enough to discuss what's happening on this mountain and formulate a game plan," I adamantly instruct.

We hike for a long while in silence.

“What do they do to you when you omit drinking lake water?" I ask Lim Tow.

“Well, Pierre, it's kind of not nice to not drink the lake water. I just drink it. It's no problem. It's rather offensive to be the odd one out, so I'd rather not offend."

I stare at the trees and take in the fresh air. By now, we are far enough from Pops' cave. I have marked about five casuarina tree barks to navigate back to Pops' cave if we have to, whilst ensuring that the new marks do not overlap with the direction to the pasture.

“Oh yeah, how was 'it', Pierre?" Lim suddenly poses.

Lim and I are now far away from the nearest civilization. We are unable to reach out to Pops or the people who reside at the pasture

“How was what?" As I am short of breath and thirsty, my voice is dry.

“The lake water," Lim replies.

The fact that Lim is asking me how I felt about the lake water means that he has been thinking that I have tried it. This shows a lack of observation of Lim. He did not realize that I was hungry, but he was not. Unless he correlated it to snacking as with others who tried berries by the pasture.

There is nothing wrong with eating, after all. We still have normal human taste buds.

The game plan now is to deter the topic of conversation from my experience with the lake water.

“You first," I try to joke.

“Me? About how I felt?" confirms Lim.

“Mm-hmm," I consent.

“When I first got here, I awoke to see multiples walking towards one direction," Lim begins. “I followed them and arrived at the lake. Then, I noticed how people smiled after they drank the water from the lake. Now, I have never done this before. We usually buy water from the supermarket. However, I decided to follow them and felt immediate joy. That was the first time I ever tried Maica's lake water."

“Aren't you happy without the lake water? Happiness is an emotion," I argue. “You do not need water to make you happy," I try to justify.

“It is about immediate gains, Pierre," Lim reasons. “The priority is the speed of happiness obtainment. For me and many others drinking water poses happiness right away. I don't know how long it takes for other methods to provide you with happiness."

Lim begins shifting his legs from left to right and lays his hand on the nearest tree bark. Having not being an person of movement, his facial sorrow is hidden under his sweaty forearm that he uses to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“Want to sit down?" I offer.

“Yeah, Pierre."

“We could quickly walk forward. There might be something like Pops' cave or even better. We could rest there," I say as I point to the area on my right, and on Lim's left.

Drenched in even more sweat, Lim exhales louder.

As we trek deeper into the forest, I ponder about Lim's support of all this. He might be a ticking time bomb. The reality is that he might refuse this trek should it be exposed that I have not even taken a sip of lake water, which contains demons. It is already hard enough to convince him when he thinks that I have taken in the lake water.

Upon spotting a large rock, Lim plops down. I stand in front of him watching, gulping my dry throat. Thirsty.

“Yeah, tell me what happened inside the cave with you and the old man, Pierre. And your story about the lake? I haven't heard what you think," Lim sternly insists while panting.

A tiny yellow butterfly flies in the middle of us both as Lim's eyes drift to sleep before I can answer. He is tired after the non-stop trekking.

We might make it to over twenty-four hours without Lim's drinking the lake water. If there is a withdrawal, I need to know why it is so alluring. So far, I can infer that the people here do not practice this type of experiment. Lim might experience withdrawal soon.

Lim begins to snore. It blends in together with the sounds of the crickets.

It is dinnertime. However, this would be the second meal of the day for me.

Lim and I are now in an open grassy space surrounded by tall trees that could be the home of woodpeckers. The open area is wide enough to pitch makeshift tents.

The sound of bonfire crackling does not wake Lim.

He sleeps on its left, while I sleep on its right. With no human to talk to, I remember the old man in the cave, Pops. We trekked too far from his residence for refuge to possible answers.

The bonfire is big enough to cook this afternoon's lamb game that Pops and I caught.

My hands open up the game bag and my stomach cries out in grumble.

“Mmm," Lim groans in agony.

The forest grass is not as soft as the pasture. He must be upset that the sounds of grumbling disturbed his nap.

My hands dig into the game bag and a leaf falls out. It is a note written with charcoal.

The bonfire lights up the dark haphazard charcoal writing. It is a note written with block letters from Pops:

“COME BACK TO MY CAVE, SILENTLY."